


Miracle Of Love

by distorted_reality



Category: Major Crimes
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distorted_reality/pseuds/distorted_reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Even You'. Sharon contemplates Provenza.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Awkward wasn't beginning to cut it. Looking out of the window of her office, she thought about a way to resolve an impossible situation. Nothing in life was ever particularly easy but some things seemed harder than others.

The last two days Provenza and she had talked only when necessary. It wasn't disrupting their work, hadn't led to any friction within the team, but there was a palpable difference that began to attract the team's interest. These were some of the best investigators in the country, and they could smell when something was amiss. Sharon had zoned out twice during a conversation, had been called up upon it. Provenza in turn had been teased about going soft on her when he didn't try butting heads with her at all.

Things had to change or rather to go back to normal. Now.

Too bad she couldn't blame Provenza, at least not entirely. If it were that easy she would confront him right now. They would have it out in the open, deal with it and move on. It wasn't as if she was risking losing a friendship here. But she had made a crucial mistake, one she couldn't forgive herself and one she wasn't quite sure how to rectify yet.

Instead of giving Provenza an answer when he proposed dinner, she had turned her back, grabbed her stuff and left the office. Provenza hadn't stopped her, a fact she had been thankful for. Unfortunately it meant there was a big elephant in the room whenever the two of them had to deal with each other.

This wasn't like her, that wasn't who she was. It drove her crazy. She wasn't afraid of personal confrontations, had learned early how to make a stand. It should have been easy. She should have said no, Provenza would have gone back to hating or at least strongly disliking her and life would have gone on like it used to.

It would have been easy, yes, if there hadn't been the tiny nagging voice wondering what would happen if she said yes.

It was an outrageous idea. What could they possibly have in common? It was way too easy to imagining the two of them sitting opposite each other while awkward silence dominated the room. Or was she simply refusing to think spending time with this man could be pleasant. Should she stop judging this particular book by its cover?

"Sharon?"

She almost jumped when Rusty called her name, whirled around to him. Smiling, she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.

"What's the matter?" the teenager asked, taking a seat.

"Nothing. What can I do for you?"

Sharon sat down as well, folded her hands in front of her.

"Nothing. Or well, there actually is something you could do for me. I would really like to know what's up with you and if it... has something to do with me."

"Nothing is up. What makes you think that?"

"Your behaviour the last two days was odd. I just wondered if it has something to do with the case or with me."

He looked away, barely concealing the hurt in his eyes. Sharon's heart reached out to him. There was such vulnerability about Rusty, so much fear of rejection.

"No, it has nothing to do with you, I promise," she said, her voice soft.

When she had taken him in, at first it had seemed to be a quick solution to a complicated problem, by now she was glad he was in her life. Solitude was a thing of the past, but she'd take the mayhem of a teenager living with her over an orderly life any day. She had come to like and respect him. She had come to love him.

"So what is it?"

She was about to brush him off, though when she opened her mouth, she couldn't. There had been too many lies, too many broken promises in his life.

"I...," she wasn't quite sure how to begin.

"Sharon, this is beginning to scare me."

She smiled again.

"A man... kinda asked me out, and I never even gave him an answer."

The teenager's eyes widened in a way she found almost comical. It must be hard to grasp someone was actually interested her as a woman. To him she had to appear ancient. The thought almost made her smile. Not that Provenza was interested in her that way.

Her head began to hurt, and for the fraction of a second she considered banging her head against the nearest wall.

"I... wow, I'm not sure what to say."

That would make two of them. Rusty's gaze drifted off into the distance, though from one moment to the next he focused on her with razor-sharp intensity.

"Who?"

"I'd rather not disclose his name. This has nothing to do with you, I promise, but please trust my judgement on this."

He thought about it for a moment, nodded.

"Okay, then why didn't you give mystery man an answer?"

Provenza was a mystery all right.

"I wish I knew. I know I should have, but I couldn't."

"So do you want to go out with mystery man or not?"

"God, no."

"Okaaaay. So if you don't want to go out with him, why didn't you tell him?"

"I..."

For once Sharon had no idea what to say.

"Does that guy scare you? Were you afraid of telling him no?"

Hardly. Provenza had been a pain in her ass for years but he hadn't scared her once.

"No."

"Would you like to know what I think?"

Since when was he asking before giving his opinion?

"I'm not sure, actually."

He rolled his eyes at her.

"It seems you're not sure about a lot of things."

He was right with that.

"So go on, give me your opinion."

"Well, I'm no expert when it comes to love and all of that..."

"No one is talking about love here, Rusty."

"Yeah, whatever. But it seems you think there are reasons going out with mystery man is a bad idea. These reasons want you to say no. On the other side there is a part of you that would like to say yes, which seems to scare you. You look scared, you know."

For a second she was lost for words. His words had hit entirely too close to home. She cleared her throat.

"I very much doubt I do, but thank you, Rusty. I appreciate your open words."

She did. That they could have a conversation like this was a sign of how far they had gotten in the last year.

"I wasn't finished. My opinion is that if that guy doesn't scare you and you couldn't say no to him, give him a chance. If the date sucks, forget about him, if it doesn't, give him a serious chance."

They weren't talking about a date, just dinner.

Giving Provenza a chance? A chance to do what? She refused to open that door, if only in her thoughts.

They were silent for a long minute, then there was a knock and the door to her office opened again. Provenza, a file in hand.

Their gazes locked, and for the first time in the last few days they both didn't look away.

Should she really consider dinner with this man?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really need a beta reader. *lol*

"Who is she?"

Provenza looked up from the report he'd been staring at for the best part of the last hour. He glared at Flynn who had sat down on the edge of his desk. They were colleagues and friends, but it didn't mean he liked that man planting his ass on his desk.

Finally Flynn got up, rolling his eyes at him.

"Okay, let me ask again, who is she?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

He focussed on the report once more, vowing to finally finish with that thing and go home. Even Raydor had left by now. That woman... If it weren't for her he could be home by now. Yeah, a really appealing thought. His tv, a frozen dinner, wondering if there weren't better things to do with his life.

Granted, it wasn't her fault his brain had had a severe malfunction making him ask her out. Maybe he should see a doctor, have his brain checked.

That or he could stop trying to fool himself. It wasn't pure accident he had asked her out. In the last year she had somehow gotten under his skin. Not that he really liked her... Would he believe finally believe if he told this to himself often enough?

Flynn knocked on his table, making him all but jump out of his skin.

"Damn, you've got it bad, don't you?"

"Are you out of your mind? I don't have it bad for anyone. Weren't you the one who told me I'm ancient only last week, that I should start thinking about retirement homes."

"Who says they don't have sexy older ladies at those retirement homes?"

Sometimes Provenza wondered why he called this man his friend.

"Why don't you go home and ponder the fact you're just a few years younger than I?" he shot back.

"Because for some reason I can't quite explain to myself I'm worried about you. You're not behaving like yourself and the last time it happened, you brought along a very blond, very dumb girlfriend which made us all doubt your sanity."

He called him a friend because Flynn cared. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair.

"I'm not dating any blond. I'm not dating anyone, happy?"

"Nope. I think a healthy relationship could do you a world of good. Although I doubt you'd recognize a healthy relationship if it bit you in the ass."

"Smartass. So how's dating going for you?"

Flynn rolled his eyes.

"I hadn't had a date in ages and looking at you, it must be a good thing. I don't want to end up as distracted as you are."

"What does it take for your thick head to understand that I'm dating no one at the moment?"

"Don't know. But… it's a woman, isn't it?"

He could tell him it wasn't and Flynn wouldn't believe him anyway.

"Yeah, it's a woman."

"One you want to date?"

"Are you crazy?"

At this Flynn raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, let's summarize. You've got trouble with a woman you don't have any intention to date. So where's the problem. She's harassing you? Looking for a love slave?"

Not only did Flynn have way too much fun with this, it was also hard to believe this man was still running around alive and healthy. He could understand if someone had the urge to strangle him.

He stopped this train of thoughts. It wasn't Flynn's doing he had manoeuvred himself into an impossible situation. He still had no clear idea why he had invited Raydor for dinner. Or wasn't it rather he didn't want to have a clear idea? Some thoughts, truths better remained deeply burrowed.

It had definitely not been pity. As much as he detested the man she called husband, he wouldn't go to such length to comfort a woman he had considered a personal nemesis for years. Thinking of Jackson Raydor had his blood close to boiling point. What a sleaze.

He finally turned his attention to Flynn who was patiently waiting for him to say something, although he looked slightly worried by now.

"Okay, there's this woman. I am definitely not in love with her, don't think I like her all that much but she's… well… yeah… rather attractive. I guess. We talked last week and out of the blue I asked her out."

Flynn took a moment to absorb the news.

"You guess she's rather attractive?"

"From all I said just now that's what caught your interest."

Flynn shrugged. "There's no law against desiring attractive women. But to humour you… you're not sure you like her at all? Now it depends on what you're intending to do with her, if you catch my meaning."

Flynn waggled his eyebrows, but it hardly registered with Provenza.

It wasn't true, not entirely. Although he had detested Raydor for years, since their first meeting really, he had gotten to know her better. He could live with her style of running the department, admired her for taking in and fighting for Rusty. Hell, she even had a sense of humour. Of course this didn't mean he liked her. Damn, this was headache inducing. Women. More trouble than fun any given day.

"Earth to Provenza."

"Yeah."

"Shall I really spell it out for you?"

"I was talking dinner, Flynn. Just dinner."

"Says the man who was married how often?"

Too often, although there was a deeply hidden part of him that wondered if he had simple not met the right woman yet. Although if Flynn thought he had one romantic bone left in his body he'd never hear the rest of it.

"A few times. So we conclude dinner is a bad idea and let me tell you, now it might be a good idea if you found yourself something to do. Or go home, for god's sake."

Flynn straightened.

"I will. But hey, this woman seems to drive you crazy, so the best thing is to get it over with, one way or another. Either dinner will turn out to be a bad idea, in which case you'll get her home, move on or it will be nice and you can work on your preconceptions."

He growled out. "Since when are you advising people on relationships?"

"Since you started moping. And hey, it's not as if you asked out Raydor."

It was hard not to react but for a moment he was frozen solid. He could only imagine how Flynn would react if he found out it was exactly what he had done.

"I thought you started liking her better," he finally answered, throwing the ball back into Flynn's court.

Flynn shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't mind asking her out. She's not all that bad. And these legs... did you ever take a good look at her legs?"

The legs. Her petite figure, her thick hair, her soft mouth, her green eyes... But Flynn wouldn't mind asking her out? That would be... He couldn't. No, he refused to go there.

"Why would I?"

"Because they're damn near perfect. But apart of the fact she'd never agree to go out with me, she's still my superior officer."

There was that. It was true for him, too. Yeah, what had he been thinking? Flynn droned on for another few minutes until he finally left for the day.

He remained sitting at his desk for some time longer, lost in thoughts, emotions waging war with his better sense.

What was it about this woman that drove him crazy? He had enough. Or not nearly? Sighing deeply, he admitted defeat. There was only one way this could end... or begin.

Taking up a sheet of paper and a pen, he scribbled a note, put it into her office. She was always one of the first to appear in the office. Chances someone got to see the note before her were slim to non-existent.

'Nate'n al – Saturday, 8 p.m.'

It was time to find out if the road to hell was paved with good intentions or stupid ideas.


	3. Chapter 3

It was one minute to 8 p.m. Stepping out of her car, Sharon straightened her jacket, considered to leave again right then and there. The whole drive she had felt torn, knew she had no business being here.

You didn't have dinner with one of your subordinates on a Saturday night. If anyone saw them together...

She sighed. As good as this reason was, it wasn't an entirely valid one. She had had dinner with subordinates before, quite a few actually. There was no harm in a friendly dinner. Although if this would be a friendly affair would remain to be seen. Still, it wasn't a date, so she didn't need to worry.

She caught her reflection in a window pane. She gave herself a quick once over. With a pair of jeans, a white blouse and a pair of simple black heels she shouldn't be over- or undressed. That she had even thought about what to wear was giving her a headache. Why should she care? Why would Provenza care?

If she had felt insecure after his blurted out dinner invitation, she had felt even worse after finding his note. Again, she hadn't confronted him, again, he hadn't tried talking to her about it. They had talked a few times, always about their latest case or Rusty, just never about the elephant in the room. It was a downright insane situation, being made worse by Rusty who was teasing her about her date non-stop.

While she hadn't told Rusty about the note, they had discussed the fact she would be out for dinner on Saturday. It was seldom she thought of Rusty as truly obnoxious but he had had too much fun with this. That was when she didn't find him brooding because he worried what would happen if she dated a man. A few times she had been tempted to put up notes all over the apartment saying 'I'm not dating'.

Not that she had any idea what exactly she was doing here. Although being on neutral turf might make it easier to tell Provenza this had to be a one-time occurrence.

It might. It wasn't as if this man was in any way predictable. If he were she'd seen this whole mess coming.

"Good, you're here."

His voice from behind startled her, had her spin around. He was lucky this was not work, otherwise he would have found himself at gunpoint now.

"I was invited."

He seemed lost for words, shrugged.

"Shall we go in?"

He walked around her to open the door for her but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. Looking at her surprised, he waited for her to talk.

"Lieutenant, what are we doing here?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

It almost made Sharon laugh out, but she didn't let it show. Somehow it was good to have confirmation the confusion she felt wasn't one-sided.

"As this was your idea, I thought you might be able to explain to me why the two of us should meet and have dinner together."

He shook his head, a look of annoyance flickering over his face. For once it was a comforting expression to see, as it meant something like normalcy. Whatever normalcy meant in their case.

"Do you always have to talk like a damned robot?"

As much as her way of talking in this clipped, precise tone drove him crazy, it was part of the woman. Even after years she still was an enigma to him. What made her tick? Why did she seem unable to relax? He loved solving puzzles, it was part of the reason he'd become a police officer in the first place, but he had never thought this was a riddle he'd liked to solve.

"I'm not a robot."

She shook her head. "Listen, we should forget about this."

He took a long look at her. Was she nervous? It almost looked like it. Good, it meant he wasn't the only one.

"You are here, I am here and while I don't know about you, I'm hungry and intend to eat. Feel free to join me."

Her eyes widened, her hand flew to her mouth but it was too late. Giggles escaped her, and it took her the best part of a minute to calm down. Even if he had wanted to say something, he couldn't. He was transfixed by the sight in front of him.

Not only was he sure he hadn't been funny, but also this was a new sight of her. He knew her when she was her usual self, composed, quiet but with a bite. He had seen her pissed off, throwing glares that should be labelled deadly. A few times he'd seen her close to being desperate, times when he found even he couldn't harden his heart to her.

This though... this uncontained mirth, eyes sparkling was new. He...liked it. Damn, he realised he was smiling. This woman was a wicked witch, if only because she made him feel things he never thought he would feel when it came to her.

Finally, she sobered up.

"I'm... sorry, Lieutenant. I have no excuse, really."

"An excuse to laugh? Why am I not surprised you think one needs one in the first place. But if you haven't noticed, we're beginning to attract a crowd, so how about we get this over with?"

Not only were people inside the deli looking out but there were also two couples on the other side of the road throwing them glances.

She straightened, threw a look around, was transformed into Ms Prim and Proper once more. Hell, what did it take to make her loosen up for real? A few choice idea popped into his head but he refused to entertain any of these thoughts for more than a second.

"Certainly," she said, walking up to the restaurant, holding the door open for him, throwing him a challenging look. He growled lowly under his breath. This was not how this worked. Did she think he didn't have manners? His mother had raised him the right way.

Walking past her, he spotted an empty table near the windows, held out a chair for her. She sat down, giving him a clipped smile.

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

He had just taken a seat himself when she spoke.

"Okay, I think it's time we have a talk."

"Now?" he sounded as incredulous as he felt.

They should have talked when he had asked her to dinner the first time. They should have talked when he slipped the note into her office. But now? When they actually were doing what they shouldn't have been contemplating at all?

"Yes, now."

No more games. She was too tired to play any games. The situation had gotten out of hand. Not only was there a real risk Provenza 's and her working relationship could take a turn for the worse again, but Rusty thought she was dating which she wasn't. Her life was complicated enough without any further problems arising.

A waitress came over, handed them menus, asked what they would like to drink. Sharon ordered water, and strangely enough Provenza did the same. It seemed they both wanted to be at their sharpest when dealing with each other.

"Why are we here? You are in no way responsible for what Jack did ages ago."

" I know."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Why, Lieutenant, why?"

For a second he seemed to deflate in front of her eyes.

"I don't know. I really don't. If I did, I would have made it go away and this would never have happened."

She understood, felt the same way, yet... Something inside her relaxed, and she acknowledged that this would end in an awkward dinner if she didn't leave or accepted the fact the two of them were indeed here.

"Okay, I was worried you could begin to like me," she said in a neutral tone while still trying for levity.

He smirked, his eyes lighting up, although only a moment later he cleared his throat, his expression guarded once more.

"Don't get your hopes up."

She smiled. "I'll try my best."

He smiled back. She liked the fact she could make him smile.

Deciding not to push her luck, Sharon took up her menu, perused its content. Provenza took her lead, took up his own.

While she still had no idea where this would lead, she had to admit Provenza wasn't that bad when he didn't try to apply for the obnoxious male of the year award. He had a keen mind, was a skilled investigator. He didn't take crap from anyone, and tried hiding a compassionate heart. Only when she had joined Major Crimes had she seen this sight of him. When Rusty ran off, Provenza was the first to offer to stay at the office until they had found Rusty. It was only one of quite a few examples.

Never judge a book by its cover. It was something she had wished more people would have done when it came to her, still, she hadn't been inclined to grant him the benefit of doubt for way too long.

God, so far this man had always treated her better than her own husband had most of the time. To think she was here right now because Jack had invited himself into her life once more...

"It's not that interesting, is it?"

Provenza's voice had her look up, making her realise she had drifted off.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're looking at this menu for about five minutes now. Not only did your eyes not move once , but I also tried addressing you twice. You okay?"

It was an impulse to deny anything was wrong, the words already on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them.

"I'm not sure. I... thought about the fact it was my husband who brought me here today."

"I already told you it has nothing to do with the fact..."

When Provenza was annoyed, he didn't try to hide it.

"I know," she said, knowing she was interrupting him. "But if he hadn't stirred that particular memory, you wouldn't have thought about proposing... this."

" Do you have to question everything in your life? Don't you ever just live?"

The question hit her unexpectedly, hurt in a way that was hard to define. There had been times in her life, she had just lived. It was before she became a mother, before she had to cover for Jack and his shortcomings, had to replace a too often absent father. That was without thinking about the debts she had to pay for years. If it hadn't been for her family...

"I found it's better to enter situations as well prepared as possible. It always pays off to consider the ramifications of one's actions before everything falls apart in front of one's eyes."

Provenza threw up his hands.

"Good god, woman, this might be good advice for the office, but this is not the office. Just enjoy this evening, some of the best food L.A had to offer and the company."

In spite of yourself she had to smile.

"You're right. It's not often I find myself in such charming company."

The waitress came to take her orders, and she was about to send her away when Provenza spoke.

"Do you trust me?"

While she had never contemplated the question before, her answer came instinctively.

"Yes."

"Good."

Quickly he placed their order. She was surprised to find him ordering smoked salmon. If she had had to guess she'd thought he'd go for burgers.

"So how's the kid?" he asked when the waitress left.

"He's good. A bit nervous because he thinks I'm dating." She rolled her eyes.

"He wants you to be happy but he's afraid what it might mean for him."

An astute observation.

"Well, he doesn't need to worry, does he?"

"That we're dating? Of course not."

"He even printed out something he found on the net. He called it the five rules of dating."

"Geez, what happened to people just going out and be merry? But humour me, what do the rules say anyway?"

"They're rules for women. So you'll be safe. Anyway: Never order the most expensive items on the menu, do not display your voracious appetite, never bring up marriage on the first date, never flirt with other men while on a date, do not bed him after the first date."

Amused she watched his eyes widening.

"I knew that Rusty has a lively fantasy, but... "

"As I said, he found these online."

"Good. Because I'm sorry to tell you, Captain, proposing marriage wasn't on my list of things to do tonight."

Several responses flickered through her mind, and she spoke before she was even sure what she wanted to say.

"Sharon. Tonight I'm Sharon."


	4. Chapter 4

Sharon.

He hadn't thought of her as Sharon often. To him she had always been Captain Raydor or rather the Wicked Witch of the West. Hell, not even most of his ex-wives had annoyed him as much as this woman had done and frankly, was still doing on a regular basis.

Still, working with her day after day he couldn't help but notice she was a capable department leader, had a big heart and was an able cop although she was married with her precious rule book.

No, she might be in love with her precious rule book but she was married to a prick, answering to the name Jackson Raydor.

"Okay,... Sharon," he said after a long minute, the name tasting strange on his tongue. Belatedly he realised he should offer the same in return.

"Well, I guess that means you can call me..."

"Louie," she said, the name falling softly over her lips.

It gave him a jolt, and for a tiny second in time, he wanted her to say his name again. It was just a name, nothing more, no need to get excited all over it, still...

Sharon only looked at him, her head slightly tilted, making him think he could as well talk out loud. This woman had the uncanny ability to make you think she was privy to what was going on in your head.

"Tell me about her," she finally said.

"Huh? Tell you about whom?"

"Sharon."

He had no idea why she had picked this topic but it was as good as any other, he guessed, better than feeling constantly out of place and a little out of his mind.

"She was a bitch," he said.

He added a smile to take the sting out of his words.

The Sharon opposite of him returned the smile, an amused twinkle in her eyes.

"I figured as much. So what did she do to make your life a living hell?"

"You don't want to know."

"Would I have asked if I didn't?"

"Okay, but don't you complain later. Sharon was… demanding. You gave her money, she wanted more, you voiced an opinion, hers was better, you got angry, she began throwing things at you. Hell, one time I had to duck a flying pan."

"What did you do?"

"I turned my back, left, told her to clean up her mess. I know, I wasn't entirely blameless. Sometimes I'm…. well… not easy to live with but she was seriously nuts."

"You could have reacted otherwise, you know."

"What? Help her clean up the fucking mess she created herself? Never."

Sharon shook her head. "Before I.A I had to walk into too many apartments and houses where an argument got out of hand. Most often it was blue eyes, cracked ribs but twice we had to call the ME. But I'm sorry, I don't want to spoil the evening."

He shrugged. "We're cops, we talk shop twenty-four seven."

"Sometimes we do, yes. And thanks for acknowledging the fact I'm a cop, too."

She looked way too amused, making him want to... He didn't know, quickly thought about something else.

"All I wanted to say is," Sharon continued. "I don't think you're the bad guy you want others to think you are."

"No one told you men don't like to be analysed?"

She rolled her eyes. "And here I thought I was paying you a compliment. My bad."

What was it with his man? One moment he was charming, fun, the next it felt like pulling teeth. It was just as good their order arrived right then. The waitress left, and Sharon picked up her fork to taste the salmon.

"This is good."

"I know."

"Do you frequent this place often?"

He shrugged. "Kinda. When I've got the time, yes. The food is good, not too expensive and you'll get to observe people. Quite often stars stop by and you should see how this makes the other patrons react. Some try for nonchalance, playing with their food while discreetly eying that star, others, especially women, begin to strut their stuff, hoping to be noticed."

"And you watch the watchers."

"Don't tell me you don't like to observe people, too."

"I do."

It was one of a myriad of reasons she had decided to become a cop. Even as teenager she had noticed other's behaviour, was able to reach, most often true, conclusions about their intentions. Only one time her famous judgement had failed. How she could have fallen for Jackson Raydor might remain a mystery forever. Although maybe not that she fell for him but that she married him, had two kids with a man who wasn't able to take on any kind of responsibility. She would never regret having the children, but why him?

Because the heart didn't like to listen to reason, that's why. If it did she wouldn't have done quite a few things in her life, going to this dinner being one of them.

"You should divorce him and be done with it."

"Pardon?"

"Each time you think of that git... I mean your husband you'll get this slightly sad, desperate look. He's not worth it. If you had an infested limb you'd cut it off as well in order to live on. Get rid of that man. If there's a god I doubt he would mind as he should know him better than anyone else."

"It's not that easy."

"Nothing's ever is."

"The kids..."

"Surely don't have regular contact with him and won't mind if you divorce. I may not know them but I'm sure they want to see their mother happy."

He had hit a nerve. More than once her children had asked her why she didn't file for divorce. She didn't have an answer then, didn't have it now. All she knew was the thought scared her. Being officially single she wouldn't have an excuse for not dating someone, she might fall for this person and what if her judgement was off another time? She didn't want to hurt that much again.

So maybe this was her answer. Having lost her appetite, she put her fork down.

"Oh come on," the man opposite of her grouched.

"I..."

"It's not the salmon's fault your ex-husband is a pricky prick."

"It's not Jackson..."

"Fine, then eat your dinner and try to look as if you're enjoying this at least a little."

"I was... so far."

Until you mentioned my ex-husband again was the unspoken tail of her sentence. Provenza just shrugged it off.

"Did I mention I had a relationship with a woman named Brenda once?"

In spite of herself Sharon was intrigued.

"No, you didn't. And just to clarify, we're not talking about the Chief now, do we?"

He snorted. "No, we don't. But you know, she had a lot in common with her. She loved floral dresses for one. Anyway, one time she got me to drive to Santa Monica Pier with her..."

For the next ten minutes while she finished her dinner, he entertained her with a story involving some flowers, a hot cup of coffee, a ruined dress and a cop ending up with lipstick-smeared cheeks. When he was done, Sharon had to bite her bottom lip so she wouldn't break out into uncontrollable laughter.

"How long have you been with... Brenda?"

"About a year and a half. When we separated I considered men for a minute or two but had to realise I'm a straight arrow."

"I'm... sorry."

"I'm not. Men are too hairy. Although I could have done without wasting so much time on Brenda."

"You didn't marry her though. Why?"

She couldn't imagine marrying a second time, let alone four times but he didn't seem to have many qualms when it came to marriage in general.

"I had a bad feeling about her. And yes, I should have a bad feeling about the others, too, but well, we've got this life, mistakes are part of it. All we can do is trying to learn from then and move on."

"Any interesting stories about your wives?"

"You've got time?"

"Nothing but..."

"Good."

It wasn't her business but as he didn't mind sharing, she didn't regret asking him to share part of his personal life. He was a good at telling a story, didn't take himself too seriously and the awkwardness between them had passed for the moment. It was so good to take her mind off things for once, just to enjoy a moment for what it was.

"Are you still listening," he asked.

A cop would notice if your attention slipped.

"I am."

"Good. So as I was saying, Sharon came home, already steamed..."

"Did you enjoy your meal?"

He stopped, looked annoyed for a second, then he smiled at the waitress.

"It was delicious, as always. Thank you. Would you mind bringing us two slices of your famous chocolate cake?"

"Thank you, but..."

She was full, didn't think she was up for any kind of dessert.

He looked at her. "No but. Believe me. One bite and you'll think you're in heaven."

Again, she trusted his judgement, nodded her assent.

The waitress left, smiling at the two of them.

"Just one warning," he said. "You could end up being addicted to it."

"Dinner with you?"

She hadn't intended to flirt, tease him but the words had left her mouth before she could stop them. Expecting him to shut her out once more, to be faced with the Lieutenant instead the man, she was surprised when a slow smile flickered over his face.

"That, too. But you'd be lucky."

"Is that so? How?"

"I'm cheaper than the dessert."

She bit her lip, took a deep breath. God, who would've thought she'd laugh more spending two hours with him than she had last month.

"I very much doubt it."

"You've got no idea how expensive the dessert is," he said, his eyes crinkling, his amusement barely disguised.

"But I know what you're worth."

He was serious from one moment to the next, making her feel almost uncomfortable. She hadn't meant to compliment him, only spoke the truth as she saw it.

"Thank you."

She only nodded. The people around them stirred, and she wasn't sure if she was happy or not to be able to focus on someone else. She recognised an actor she'd seen in some tv series, was amused by people's reactions to him.

"Didn't I tell you?" Provenza said, their gazes meeting, holding, something shifting between them ever so slightly. It caused her stomach to flutter if only for a second, but it had been there.

Dessert arrived a minute later, the waitress looking over at the other guests, shaking her head.

"Some of them will never realise these so called stars just as human as we are, huh?"

"Human nature," Provenza said.

"Yeah. Well, it gets people here and helps me pay my bills. Although I guess I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Worry crept into the woman's eyes.

"Don't. We agree, don't we,... Sharon?"

"Yes, we do."

Confronted with too many feelings surging up in her, she tackled her dessert, stopping with the first taste barely having hit her tongue. Delicious. Dark, creamy, rich... just as she liked it. She hummed out quietly, causing her companion to clear his throat.

She was glad she didn't blush, but it was a close thing.

"This is...excellent"

"I know."

They enjoyed dessert while watching people, talking a bit here and there. When it was time to order the cheque, she reached for her purse but Provenza shook his head.

"Don't you dare..."

"I'm a mature woman and able..."

"Yes, and I invited you. You don't want to spoil the evening arguing, do you?"

He had the look in his eyes that told her it was better not to argue.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

He paid the bill, and she felt almost sad it was time to leave. She had enjoyed herself, something she hadn't thought possible.

"This was...," he began when he walked her back to her car.

"Please, don't."

She turned around, lifted her hands, shrugged. For someone who was able to give to the point, precise statements at any given time, she had trouble to formulate her thoughts at this moment.

"I... This was a good evening. I didn't think it would be, but it was. Let's not destroy it."

He took her words in, took a moment to think them through, then he smiled.

"You're right."

Feeling her heart beat faster than it should, she took a deep breath, decided to go with instinct once more. Crossing the short distance between them, she kissed his cheek, the contact brief, yet electrifying.

This man was not her friend, a subordinate, this was wrong, still... it felt right.

She wasn't sure if she had imagined his faint tremble or not, didn't ask.

"Good night, Lieu... Louie," she said, turning to leave.

Wheels had been set in motion, where this would lead her, she had no idea.


	5. Chapter 5

He blamed his dreams, the fact they had been too vivid and absurd to have granted him any true rest. He blamed Sharon, because if she hadn't kissed him, she wouldn't have shaken his composure so badly he had dreamed of her in the first place. All in all, he blamed his lack of good sleep for buying Swiss chocolate in the late afternoon.

Paying the – in his opinion – ridiculously overpriced chocolate, he walked back to headquarters, wondering how a day could have gone from bad to worse to seemingly jinxed over the course of a few hours.

First, they had pulled a case on a Sunday morning, the teenage son of a famous Hollywood star having found dead in the family's bathroom, then shit had begun to hit the fan quickly. Such a case would always attract the media's attention and cause a frenzy even if it was just another case of drug overdose, but when it was plain murder it was chaos pure. Although nothing was quite plain about the scene. The victim had been attacked with a knife but by whom and why they couldn't say yet.

The whole team had been called in, and they had tried to do their work while helicopters circled the property. Then there were the parents of the deceased. They hadn't been only grief stricken but obviously still under the influence of drugs. Messy didn't even begin to cut it.

So much for the bad part of the day.

It had gotten worse when a rookie officer, standing guard, gave a Fox News reporter an interview, describing the scene in gory detail although he hadn't even sat one foot into the house. Since when did the LAPD hire such idiots?

The day had become hopelessly jinxed when Taylor appeared on scene, bellowing around like a mad dog in heat, giving Sharon…. Captain Raydor a dressing down in front of everyone. Listening to him, one could start to think everything was her fault; the fact the rookie had dished, that there was no way they could keep the intoxicated state of the parents a secret, and hell, that there had been a murder in the first place.

It wasn't the first time she had to deal with pissed off Taylor, but after a long day, with people from other departments around to listen, it was easy to see he had gotten to her. She had given Taylor a tightly-lipped smile, had responded calmly but he had seen the tears she could barely suppress.

So now here he was, thinking he had to do something. It was crazy, and he avoided thinking about it before he could lose his nerves and turn on his heel.

But damn him, the woman, Raydor… Sharon deserved better. He couldn't help but think back to last night, how relaxed she had seemed, the way her whole demeanour would light up when she gave in to giggles. He smiled, wondered if he'd get to illicit such a reaction another time, though then he heard a voice not unlike Taylor's in the distance, his anger bubbling to the surface again.

He knew a lot of people still treated Sharon as if she was the enemy, a traitor, didn't think twice about keeping their emotional reaction in cheque. Why should they? It was only Sharon Raydor and wasn't she a robot carrying a rule book anyway?

No, dammit, she wasn't.

She was… He stopped this train of thought either. Only because they had consumed a meal in each other's company it didn't have to mean a thing. Well, maybe that their professional relationship would be a bit more relaxed. Until she waved her rule book in front of his face again, that was.

Reaching her office, he was relieved she wasn't in yet, although he hoped for her sake she wasn't still at the scene. Anyway, glad no one else of the team was around either, he quickly slipped into her office, placed the chocolate on top of her desk.

Would she know who put the chocolate there? Did he want her to?

He left her office quietly, sat down at his desk, his hands behind his head. Closing his eyes, his thoughts went back to the scene, going over the facts. There was something off about this case, but what was it?

"Falling asleep on the job? Must be your age."

Flynn's voice had his eyes snap open, and he glared at his friend.

"What are you doing here and where are the others?"

Flynn sat down at his desk.

"Raydor, Tao and Sanchez are still at the scene, Sykes' at the morgue and Taylor's running around ruining everything."

Flynn rolled his eyes.

"I wonder if Taylor got actually worse when he was promoted or if my perception of him changed."

"Geez, Flynn, lay off the introspective stuff. What pills did you take?"

"None, and I blame the lack of sleep. I watched re-runs of the play-offs last night, had just gone to bed when the phone rang."

"Tough. So again. What are you doing here?"

"Checking out some names connected to the victims. You? Didn't even notice you leaving."

"I... had to grab some stuff here."

Flynn didn't believe him but for the life of him, Provenza didn't have a better answer. Telling the truth, not an option.

"So how was it?" Flynn asked when it became clear nothing else was forthcoming.

"How was what?"

"Your date, silly."

"Who says I had a date?"

"The one who watched you staring into space all Friday. Ya know,seeing that you claim to not even like your date you seem to have gotten it pretty bad."

"Nonsense... I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

He was saved by the bell, as Sanchez and Raydor entered the department.

He couldn't help but look at Sharon, note how tired she looked, how she was biting down her bottom lip, obviously worried. Right now he would like nothing better than kick Taylor's sorry ass. Sure, on the surface of things she looked impeccable, not even a hair out of place, but he had learned reading her body language, saw the bone-deep fatigue.

"Please tell me that's not true," Flynn said, and Provenza realized he had all but forgotten about his friend and colleague.

"What's not true?"

"You and Raydor? You didn't date Raydor, did you?"

It was so easy to forget he wasn't the only one being apt in reading body language. The moment of panic subsided, and he knitted his eyebrows together.

"Raydor? Have you lost your mind?"

Flynn looked at him for a very long moment, not sure whether to believe him or not. Andy was a good cop, one of the best Provenza had worked with over the years. Still he was human and humans tended to believe what they wanted to believe, in this case that hell would freeze over before he would date Raydor. Only that he had and that he couldn't see the annoying nemesis in her he had seen for such long a time.

"Good grief," Andy said, rubbed his temple.

"What?" Provenza bit out.

"I don't believe you. But I want to. Because the thought you and Raydor…"

"Is heinous?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Why would I date Raydor?"

Flynn rolled his eyes.

"It's not about you, stupid. She's too good for you."

"Now who's being a fangirl?"

Flynn had been one of the most outspoken when it came to his dislike for Raydor but as with the rest of him, his attitude had mellowed, to say the least. Often he reminded Provenza of a love struck puppy. Hell, once or twice Provenza had thought the two of them could be even good for each other. Now… he didn't have an idea what to think, only that Flynn couldn't know. Not now, better never and in any case not before he was sure what the hell he wanted in the first place.

For some reason he had to think of his first wife, who had accused him of being unable to make any kind of mature decision in his private life. He started to think she might have been right.

"So tell me you don't."

"Don't what?"

"Date Raydor."

"I'm not dating Raydor."

At least not on a constant basis. Not now anyway.

"Good."

Sykes sidled up to them, speaking faster than any human being should, rattling down information she had gathered in the morgue. They were joined by Sanchez and soon he saw Raydor approaching. From the look in her face, the way her eyes searched his face for a second, he knew she had found his gift.

It made him feel uncomfortable, but he couldn't avert his eyes, all the while wondering what she was thinking. Was he really wondering what a woman was thinking about? He was losing his marbles after all.

Chocolate. He had bought her chocolate. She had no idea why she was so sure it had to have been Provenza, but she would venture any guess it had been him. Opening the box, her hand lingered over one of the tin-foiled treats.

She wasn't Brenda Johnson, wasn't addicted to sweets as the other woman had been. Still there were times when the mixture of sugar and chocolate helped calming her nerves or made her feel good, simple as that. Today was one of these days.

Not only had the crime been bad enough, but Taylor following her the whole time throwing acid remarks at her had chipped at her confidence a bit more with each remark. She knew she was doing her job and doing it damn well. She knew that sometimes doing all you could were not enough. It wasn't her, it was Taylor, his frustration that a crime was messy, the suspect not waiting to be led away right at the scene. This case meant trouble, bad publicity.

It was their job, their all job, to deal with it, to do their job in spite of the pressure. Closing her eyes for a moment, letting out a tiny sigh, she straightened herself. She couldn't fall apart, wouldn't. It was hard enough to win this team's trust, to get them to work with her. It wouldn't do to show them she didn't deserve the trust placed into her.

For a moment, she had all but forgotten about the chocolate, now she turned to this treat again. To hell with it. Unwrapping the one she had chosen, she put it inside her mouth, let the sweet, rich flavour soothe her.

Without even wanting to she had to think about Provenza, last evening. They had had a good time, he being better company than she would have guessed. She had laughed, forgot her troubles with the job. She had... kissed him. An instinctive gesture, yet it had repeated itself in her mind for hours. The feel of him, the scent of him, the confusing feeling she wanted more. It was a treacherous path her mind was treading, A crazy one, yet...

Life was known to throw curveballs no one expected. She hadn't expected to fall in love with Jack Raydor, yet he had wormed his way into her heart, a decision she didn't regret as she wouldn't have her wonderful children without him having become a part of her life.

She hadn't expected to lead Major Crimes, not even in her wildest dreams. For years it seemed this department was created solely to make her life harder, make her question if joining IA hadn't been a mistake after all.

She hadn't expected to be invited to dinner by Provenza, to go and enjoy it. And now...?

Last night she had almost been able to convince herself it would end with this dinner, now... What to do? She didn't know, indecision slicing through her, make her want to run her hands through her hair, curse out loudly, all things Sharon Raydor didn't do, at least not in front of someone else. She was alone but her team was just outside.

She blamed the tough days for the emotions cursing through her. Going home now, to have a glass of wine, enjoy a hot bath sounded heavenly, but it wouldn't come true for at least another few hours. Never mind, at home there'd be Rusty trying to interview her about her 'date' once more.

Leaving her office, she was joined by Sanchez who gave her some new information. She heard the voices, found her team discussing the case, looking for new angles. As if sensing her presence, Provenza's gaze met hers, the smallest of tender smiles on his lips. His eyes resting on her were calm, providing an anchor in the storm and chaos around her.

She nodded lightly, hoping to convey her thanks for everything, then faced her team.

"Let's sit down and sort this out."

She wondered what would be easier to sort out, this case or the...thing with Provenza.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, so sorry, for not updating in forever. Life was/is rather crazy here.

To close the case had taken them five days. Long, agonizing days which lasted late into each night. 

Taylor ranting, even threatening had been a steady presence. The press had a field day breathing down their neck, and additionally there’d been the grieving family talking about suing the department. For what no one was quite sure, it just seemed to be their way to deal with their pain  
.   
The team had been exhausted, annoyed, frustration making them snap at each other. The only one left staying calm had been Raydor, but Provenza could see she was at the verge of collapsing under the weight of this case. Still the consummate professional, she had worked without complaining once, but hell, she looked tired, as if she hadn't eaten or slept in days. 

Maybe he shouldn’t notice it, notice her, as acutely as he did, or maybe he should. He wasn’t sure. While checking facts, writing reports, trying to hold his end of the investigation together, Provenza couldn't help looking at Raydor – Sharon - now and then. He wanted to do... something for her, but he wasn't sure what, which resulted in doing nothing and making him feel like shit about it. Heck, she wasn’t his responsibility, she was a grown adult, so he shouldn’t even waste time thinking about her. But he did.

In the end, it was a quick affair, and they were simply glad it was over. The dead boy’s step-mother had been the one who murdered the sixteen year old. The adolescent had threatened to tell his father that the woman in question had an affair with a classmate of his which made her see red. It was an ugly mess. 

At least the media had left off, or rather was busy pestering the family and their friends now. 

At the LAPD Taylor was busy strutting the corridors. He seemed to think it was thanks to him the case had been closed that quickly and while it was grossly unfair everyone else was too tired to care.

That afternoon they all left early. Everyone apart of Raydor, that was. He wasn't sure when he got an inkling she wouldn’t, but a few minutes before arriving home, he turned the car, drove back to work. Raydor had said she'd go home, too, but no... he didn't believe her. Calling her landline on his way back to work, the phone was answered by Rusty. 

"Hey, is Raydor in?"

“Hey, to you, too. Yes, I’m good, thank you. How are you? And to answer your question, no, Sharon’s not in yet.”

Provenza rolled his eyes at the teenager. Had he been such a pain in the ass, too when he was that young. Not that he didn’t like the boy, he did. A lot. But sometimes…

“Thanks. I’ll call the office then.”

“Everything’s okay? Aren’t you all busy with this super important case. Hell, they were talking about it in school all morning.”

Rusty sounded worried, which was the last thing he had wanted to achieve.

“Everything’s fine. Case is closed, by the way. I only need to ask Raydor something about… the report. Anyway, thanks.”

“Sure.”

Ending the call, he shook his head. He should have known. Really, he should have known. What was wrong with this woman? 

Back at the office, he walked straight to Raydor’s office, although he had no plan what to say and do once he was there. 

The door to Sharon’s office was open, and stopping in front of it, he saw her pacing the room, the box of chocolates – almost empty now – on her desk.

“You should be home, you know,” he said, almost wincing at the gruff tone in his voice.

She turned, surprise written all over her face.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were gone for the day.”

“I thought you were home.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said, sounding more tired than angry, sitting down on her chair.

“Again. You should be.”

“I have to say this is none of your business, and if you had done what you were about to do you – namely gone home - you wouldn’t know I’m here.”

“Well, too bad. I decided to come back.”

Somehow, in a twisted way, he was relieved they could still bicker at each other. It meant there was some fire left in her.

A few years ago he hadn’t even known there was fire to the woman who seemed to be the very personification of an ice queen. While ice could burn you, too, fire felt different, and he had become addicted to see the real her, the warmth and passion she hid so carefully from the world. Well, he was not the world, was he? Just some old man who shouldn’t care.

„What for?“

Her simple question stopped the rather useless and dangerous path of thoughts. What for, indeed. A few possible answers crossed his mind, none of them satisfactory.

“I… left something on my desk. Then I realized you were still here.”

Her eyes narrowed, she slowly shook her head.

“You should know better than to try and feed me lies. Try again.”

He bristled at her tone, the way she had turned all boss on him in the matter of seconds.

“What do you think I’m here for? I was almost home when I realized you wouldn’t have left. You should. You worked yourself half to death these last few days. I don’t know who you think you are, but you, too, need rest and sleep. The case is closed, the department will still be here tomorrow.”

He had raised his hands, let them sink while he took a deep breath. He was sure it was women who gave men heart attacks. 

She was silent for a long moment, and his breath caught when she took a shaky breath, a hint of vulnerability appearing in her eyes, gone as quickly as it had appeared. When she spoke next, she simply sounded tired.

“Don’t tell me you came back so you could send me home.”

“Well, what if I did?”

“I’d thank you for your concern, think you are crazy and send you home.”

“So you could stay here even longer. Not going to happen.”

“Decides who?”

She was turning angry again. Damn women. They were more trouble than anything else. No wonder he’d lived through divorce more than one. Could anyone understand these unreasonable beings?

Although hadn’t he done the same thing so many times before? Lingered at the office way too long during or after a trying case? It was staying for a little bit longer, trying to get a little more work done before the eventual collapse would follow.

“In that case, I decide you should go home. Don’t make me call Taylor so he can send you home.”

She laughed out quietly. “It’s not as if he cares, you know.”

“Oh, he would. He’d be annoyed he had to deal with this situation.”

She sat down at the edge of her desk.

“This situation?“

„Yes, the situation. Taylor didn’t want Chief Johnson here, he didn’t want you here. He got what he wanted, namely the job of assistant chief, but if he had any say at all he’d fire me, transfer you to Alaska and get some of his buddies into place here.”

She rolled her eyes at him but didn’t disagree. It was the truth, and they both knew it.

“Listen, Lieutenant, I appreciate the concern, but…”

He didn’t like her calling him Lieutenant any longer, not when it was just the two of them. Technically speaking they were still at work but this was not about a case, no co-workers around.

“No but, I…”

Now she interrupted him.

“I’d appreciate if you let me finish.”

While her tone of voice was even, her eyes all but burned holes into him. Fire and ice. With her, her wanted to burn. How would it feel if she got out of her shell, if she was stripped of all pretenses, stripped of all…

He put a mental stop to these thoughts. While he was still a healthy, red-blooded man, maybe not quite in his prime, it wouldn’t do to nourish these thoughts. While he was ready to admit his view on her had changed it didn’t mean there was any merit to imagining things he shouldn’t. 

Women were trouble.

Sharon Raydor was trouble.

He inclined his head in answer to her latest remark, hoped his internal struggle hadn’t been visible to her.

“As I was saying, I appreciate the concern but I want you to stop acting all parental. I know how to take care of myself. I have worked long hours before and know when it’s time to go home.”

“Parental? There’s nothing parental about the way… I mean there’s nothing parental about my concern for your health.”

Holy hell… why did this woman shake his equilibrium so badly. Shake it? Shatter it. And what twisted game was it between them anyway. Two steps forward, one step back. After dinner he had thought things had changed, a little but now it felt like square one once again, although it wasn’t, was it? Damn, this woman, this case…

“What would you do if it were me?” he said, starting to feel tired from the verbal sparring. Couldn’t she keep her stubbornness for a day they both felt actually rested?

She deflated a little in front of his eyes, closing her own for a second, sighing.

“I’d move heaven and hell until you’d see sense and go home.”

Strike!

“You know what is one good thing about you?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“How did you know. Yes, I will. You are honest for the most part. Now stop lying to yourself. You’d do me a favour, too, you know. After all I ‘was’ on my way home.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze unreadable, making him want to squirm. Finally, she looked down, closed the open folder on her desk.

“Okay, Lieutenant. You won. I’ll go home.”

“Good.”

To say he was relieved would be an understatement. Even knowing he was in the right this time, he hadn’t been sure he’d win this battle. 

She arranged some things on her desk, put the folders away, shut down her computer. After a minute she looked up at him.

“It’s safe to leave now, you know. I won’t hurry back to work when you turn your back.”

He believed her. So he was free to go, drive home and do…

“Sometimes home’s the last place you want to be. After such a case.”

She stopped with her hand on her bag, her gaze curious.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I feel the same.”

Once the adrenaline had left, the body calmed down, there often was an emptiness that was hard to fill. A case had been solved, but there was still someone dead, people grieving, the lingering question if their arrest would actually lead to a conviction. Going home wouldn’t help with the empty feeling they all felt when there was just no energy for any emotion left.

Her gaze softened, a smile playing around her lips.

“Why don’t you treat yourself to something nice tonight? Go out with friends, have a few drinks, go to the cinema, I don’t know… We all deserve it.”

They did. And she was a part of this team, deserved it as much if not more.

“I think that’s a good idea. Let’s get going.”

“I’ll be out here in a minute, believe me. But I hope you’ll have…”

“Yeah. Yeah. I will. And I’ll take you out. So you better call Rusty and tell him you’ll be late.”

If it hadn’t been such a long day, the range of emotions flickering over her face would have been amusing. He waited until one won out.

“I assume you only have our best interests at heart, Lieutenant, but this is not appropriate and…”

He waved her concern aside.

“Sure. And we didn’t go out before. It wasn’t nice either. Of course. And heck, it’s not as if I invited you over to my place to cook you something nice now, complete with candlelight …”

Now she smiled.

“You didn’t? Pity. I could do with a nice dinner. I could do with something to eat to begin with.”

Was she actually giving in? Did wonders never cease?

“Okay, tonight’s plan witll include dinner, but I won’t cook and can’t guarantee candlelight.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Somehow you don’t seem to be the type for candlelight dinner anyway.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes.

“You think I got several women to marry me without knowing a thing or two about wooing them? It’s keeping them that’s the problem. “

“I see. Well, I better not comment on that. So where do you want to go.”

“Surprise.”

Why was he even inviting her? He shouldn’t. Meeting outside of work in a date-like setting once was a mistake. But a second time… He wanted to though. He didn’t want to be alone tonight, neither did she. She was great company, a good looking woman… This might not be a good idea, but hell, it wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

He expected her to argue a bit more, but to his surprise she didn’t. Instead she reached for her phone, called Rusty. 

Looking at her while she spoke, different urges tore at him. To curse her, to woo her, to hold her close…  
Going out with Sharon again, he was losing his mind.


End file.
